


just seems real sappy, and generally lame

by fensandmarshes



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humour, House Hunting, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, POV Foggy Nelson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22333057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fensandmarshes/pseuds/fensandmarshes
Summary: Matt gets out of the taxi, narrows his eyes, and immediately sits back down before Foggy even has the chance to open the door. “Not this one,” he says firmly.“What.”“I don’t like it,” he explains. “It is Bad.”or: matt and foggy go apartment-hunting, because that's the closest you'll get to house-hunting if you're broke lawyers living in nyc.or-or: matt murdock disliking funny-smelling houses for 1000 words definitely-not-straight
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 150
Collections: Marvel Fluff Bingo





	just seems real sappy, and generally lame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [supinetothestars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supinetothestars/gifts).



> \- the title is actually . from a song if you can believe it ("I Don't Like Love Songs, But I Like You" by Stick and Poke)  
> \- for my [Marvel Fluff Bingo](marvelfluffbingo.tumblr.com) prompt **buying a house together**!  
> \- mysty, it's a cRIME you didn't have any gifts on ao3 so have this mess. i love you  
> \- written with tv matt & foggy in mind, but i never really specify one way or another so i'm pretty sure it can be read as 616/comics!

Matt gets out of the taxi, narrows his eyes, and immediately sits back down before Foggy even has the chance to open the door. “Not this one,” he says firmly.

“What.”

“I don’t like it,” he explains. “It is Bad.”

Foggy goes to open his door, but Matt grabs his wrist with a steel grip.  _ "Bad,” _ he insists.

“How so, buddy?” Foggy asks, frowning skeptically. (Well, he wishes it were skeptical. If he’s honest, he’s already waved goodbye to any dreams he might have had about this particular apartment - he’s never been able to say no to Matt for long, not even for the sake of low rent and hardwood floors and possibly an actual apartment of their very own.) “What’s so bad that it warrants the capital B?”

Matt opens his mouth as if to explain before cutting himself off, darting an amused expression in Foggy’s general direction. “Capital B?”

“You said it like it deserved one. So it got it.”

“I love you,” Matt huffs, “so,  _ so  _ much,” and somehow that’s the end of this particular discussion. They should have a conversation at some point about how Matt can’t just nope out of serious talks by kissing away Foggy’s objections, but at the moment Foggy can’t bring himself to protest. (He’s very proud that he manages to find the brainpower to feel sorry for the poor confused cab driver, somewhere between the kissed-stupid incoherency and the shit-fuck-I-banged-my-head-on-the-door fuzziness that he only hopes isn’t a concussion.)

They actually make it up the stairs to the second apartment, trailed by a young, fresh-faced real-estate agent with oh-so-much hope in her eyes. She stumbles over her words every second sentence and apologises profusely every time she does. There’s a  _ spring  _ in her step, for God’s sake (or not, given Matt would give him the Disappointed Glare of Shame if he caught wind of blasphemy within a twenty-mile radius of himself. Foggy refrains from pointing out the irony). Matt seems to dislike her for reasons unknown, judging by the pouty set of his jaw. Foggy directs a useless glare in Matt’s direction and, under his breath, instructs him to behave. Matt huffs.

Foggy wishes he could sit down with her and tell her: it does not get better, you just end up hitched to a self-sacrificing idiot with unfortunate Catholic tendencies and a predisposition towards vigilantism. Give up now and turn to the allure of cheap coffee and shitty alcohol before things get worse.

“Are you pretending to be edgy again?” Matt mutters under his breath, swaying into Foggy’s side a little closer so he can whisper it into Foggy’s ear. 

Ugh.

Foggy cannot  _ believe  _ he’s stuck with this human ‘I’m not a mind reader’ for life. “Maybe,” he admits, grinning back. Can Matt … smell his inner monologue? Radar-sense his caffeine addiction? Or does he just know Foggy  _ that  _ well? (Foggy feels a sudden swell of stubborn affection for him and makes this known by planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Matt turns away and grumbles something incoherent into Foggy’s shoulder, but Foggy catches a glimpse of his oh-so-smug patented Murdock grin. Asshole.)

The real-estate agent gives them one of  _ those  _ giddy, gleeful grins. Foggy catches a glimpse of the differing pinks and oranges of her nail polish and is suddenly and forcefully reminded of  [ that Tumblr post about “types of people you will meet in public as a gay couple” ](https://straightpeoplereceipts.tumblr.com/post/186995715107/hierarchy-of-people-you-will-meet-in-public-as-a) . He realises that he wants to protect this background character with his honor. (Matt can take the ‘with his life’ part.)

She opens the door to the apartment for them. 

Matt stops dead and balks. 

“What is it?” Foggy murmurs, nudging Matt’s side with his elbow just hard enough to be annoying (although knowing Matt’s fucked-up scale of pain, it probably doesn’t even register). “You okay? We can come back another day if something’s -”

Matt turns to the real-estate agent and gives her his most blinding of forced smiles, the kind he directs at people he can’t stand to be around a second longer (Marci Stahl comes to mind, followed closely by Wade Wilson and, one memorable time, Tony Stark). “I’m sorry but we will not be touring this apartment at this time,” he tells her through layers of teeth. “Thank you for your time goodbye haveaniceday,” and by the end of his sentence he’s already tugging Foggy forcefully down the stairs and onto the street.

“Don’t tell me someone was murdered in there,” Foggy jokes ruefully, but stops dead at the determinedly blank expression on his face. “Matty, you better be kidding me.”

Spoiler alert: Matt is not kidding him.

Foggy’s half expecting to be dragged away before they even set foot inside the apartment, but Matt only pauses at the slight step up to the doorway, tilting his head thoughtfully and, Foggy notices with elation, not frowning (yet). The real-estate agent of the day does an impatient double-take towards where the two of them have just … stopped, and it reminds Foggy that he probably shouldn’t let it be  _ too  _ obvious that Matt is analysing whether anyone’s died in this apartment in the last few days.

It seems like the answer is ‘no’. Which is nice, and also surprising given this is New York they’re talking about here. 

At first the only point of contact between them is the light pressure of Matt’s arm on Foggy’s (he says he doesn’t  _ need  _ to be guided, but admitted in a moment of rare - and heavily intoxicated - vulnerability that it does, occasionally, maybe a tad, just a smidge, make things a little easier for him so that he doesn’t have to maintain a constant focus on the unfamiliar spaces around him). But as they step into the apartment together, Matt keeps giving little insistent tugs on Foggy’s elbow. It takes him a moment to decipher them, more fool him, and Matt seems to decide ‘fuck it’ as he pulls Foggy closer into his side.

Ugh. Imagine being clingy and wanting physical affection. Foggy definitely,  _ definitely  _ can’t relate. Not in any way at all. No siree. No eager side-hugs here, nothing to see, moving on.

“It’s not awful,” Matt muses as he takes in the apartment (to the chagrin of the real-estate agent, who’s paced back to them and is flipping through his folder of notes. He’s probably got a speech prepared on why they should rent This Specific Apartment, and no other). This, in Murdock-speak, is what the kids call ‘high praise’. Foggy relates this to the real-estate agent, who gives them a politely bewildered smile.

Maybe he’ll be sold on this one.

**Author's Note:**

> \- you wanted a timeline? you wanted coherency? you wanted _good writing_? SIKE you get a trashy fluff fic instead  
> \- forgive me the slightest fourth-wall-breaking - i write deadpool more than anything else and can't seem to turn it off. let's just attribute it to foggy's snarky narration and leave it at that?  
> \- they’re looking for an apartment because uhhh (squinting at smudged notes on hand) matt’s has a bill bored and foggy’s uhhhhh . costs too much money now that n&m is a thing and theyre back in debt??? idk capitalism confuses me  
> \- i don't know how real-estate agents ... work  
> \- my tumblr is hoarding-citrine if you wanna tell me what you thought <3


End file.
